


The Crow Flies

by RustedWireWitch



Category: Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: Anxiety, F/M, Fear, Gen, Heart Attacks, Injections, Nightmares, Scarecrow's Fear Toxin (DCU), Syringe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-09 02:51:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17398616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RustedWireWitch/pseuds/RustedWireWitch
Summary: Justice League animated, pre-Unlimited.Hawkgirl and Green Lantern are sent to take down The Scarecrow who is bringing his new experiments to fruition.





	1. Injection

 

_Industrial park on the outskirts of Éclair, Louisiana_   
_1st November_   
_23:56_

 

Shayera frowned as she pressed her fingertip against the receiver in her ear, struggling to hear the voice on the other end over the rushing of air about her head.

  
“From the moment you set foot in that warehouse, you will be in danger.” Batman’s voice was calm and stern, no change there, but there was an undercurrent running through it of… Shayera couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Worry, perhaps? Everything about this mission just felt wrong. She glanced across to the orb of green light sailing through the skies at her side. Well, almost everything.

  
“I’m sure we can handle a single target, Batman,” she told him, “Even one of your infamous enemies. He hasn’t even got back-up.”

  
“Which should be setting off all sorts of alarm bells for you both. Scarecrow is deranged and brutal, but he is also an intelligent man. He will have a contingency plan for when he’s uncovered, you have to be ready for it.”

  
“If you don’t mind me asking,” John Stewart started, a slight delay between him talking next to Shayera and his voice playing through the receiver, “if he’s so dangerous, why aren’t you jumping at the chance to take him down. Like Hawkgirl said, he’s one of yours.”

  
“Not that we aren’t relishing the chance to beat down a retired college professor, of course.” Shayera added, rolling her eyes.

  
“The last few times that Crane and I have fought he has shown a single-minded obsession with me. If he expects and wants to fight Batman, then Hawkgirl and Green Lantern will throw him off his game. He’ll be more likely to make a mistake and leave himself vulnerable.”

  
“You’re not telling us the whole truth, are you?” Shayera asked, glancing across to John. From the look in his eyes, he was thinking the same thing.

  
There was silence on the other end of the call for a while before Batman spoke again.

  
“Scarecrow fights by turning fear on his opponents. His fear toxins can render his victims utterly helpless in only a few moments but up until recently he has been focusing his attentions on Gotham. His experiments are largely based around poisoning humans so there may be a chance that Thanagarian biology will weaken or possibly even nullify the effects.”

  
“So I’m a guinea pig?” Shayera asked without even trying to hide her irritation.

  
“If this goes as planned, you will be able to neutralise Scarecrow without having to test my hypothesis. If things don’t go as planned, Lantern is there as a control factor.”

  
“Fear doesn’t make much of a weapon against someone with super-willpower.” John muttered, nodding gently.

  
The two Leaguers began to slowly make their descent, setting down in an alley between two warehouses. It was dark and the air thrummed with the call of crickets and some far-off whirring of engines.

  
“Be prepared for anything. And I mean anything.” Batman’s voice was starting to get distorted.

  
“He’s one for unorthodox tactics then?” John said, checking over his shoulder as his travel sphere dispersed.

  
“When he was a professor at Gotham University, he once drew a loaded pistol in the middle of a lecture and fired it into the air while yelling that he’d had enough and was going to end someone’s life. When security took him down, he claimed he was trying to show his students the first-hand effect of fear. Naturally, the stunt got him fired.”

  
“On Thanagar, that sort of thinking would most likely find an instructor moving very quickly up the ranks.”

  
Silence again on the end of the call, but Shayera swore she could feel a scowl travelling over the waves.

  
“Be cautious.” Batman eventually said, “Do not trust your eyes or ears. You are in danger right up until you have Crane in custody.” With a click, the call ended.

  
The two sighed and looked to one another.

  
“A ‘Good Luck’ would have been nice.” John said as he started towards the warehouse from the intel document.

 

“I was hoping for a ‘Happy Hunting’ myself.” Shayera hoisted up her mace and followed.

  
~

  
The warehouse itself stood alone at the centre of the complex, squatting like an immense black spider in the middle of a web. Most of the windows had been shattered over the years since its abandonment, jagged glass mouths yawning into the night. As they approached, Shayera swore that she could have seen a light blinking into life for a moment, somewhere deep within the building before vanishing back into blackness.

  
The pair approached a vast metal door that was riddled with the browns and oranges of ancient filth and rust, barely clinging to its hinges. They turned and nodded to one another as Shayera placed her hand on the flaking, cool handle and pushed inwards, John’s ring glinting with emerald light in anticipation of a sudden attack. It opened out with a low warbling cry, something in the framework cracking like a dry bone sending a faint shower of rusted debris to the warehouse floor. From far above, some disturbed birds took flight, their fluttering echoing across the cavernous room.

  
Shayera stepped inside, John bringing up the rear and bringing his light across the floor, illuminating the area but turning up no obvious threats. The rusted metal and broken glass scattered across the floor probably wouldn’t do wonders for their health if they fell, and the acrid bite to the air made it clear that the dust had soaked up its share of animal waste over the years. Still, no masked lunatics lying in wait, no obvious traps or henchmen. He brought the green light to an open door about thirty feet ahead, leading further into the building, flanked by old wooden crates.

  
Once again Shayera took point, eyes flitting from side to catch sight of any movement in the darkness. Once Scarecrow showed himself, she was fairly confident that she could drop him in a single strike of her mace. This waiting, this anticipation, that was something she was beginning to take issue with.

  
They passed the wooden boxes, most of them smashed open with straw packing bursting through the splinters. The crates were covered in words for danger in a dozen or so languages, bio hazard symbols taking up a lot of space to handle any possible misunderstandings beyond that. Every last one of them stank, even beyond the background stench of their current surroundings. The corridor beyond was tight, old shipping containers piled up to ensure that they had to travel single file to get through and Shayera grimaced as she turned to her side and felt the dust and grease coat her wings as she brushed by.

  
They were halfway down the corridor when they heard it.

  
A slow, low hiss of something being dragged through a thick layer of dust, a sharp ringing as something metal collided with hard stone. It sounded as though it was coming from the other side of the shipping containers, muffled but persistent, making both Leaguers freeze. Whatever it was, it was moving parallel to them, pausing every so often, drawing a little closer before gently drifting away.

After maybe two or three minutes it faded into the distance and left them in silence. Shayera turned back to see John’s eyes fixated on the wall of crates, jaw set and legs tensed, ready to propel himself into defence at a moment’s notice. An ache in her hands made her realise that she had been clutching her mace tighter than she had realised, a cramp throbbing where her fingers met her palms. She smiled despite herself and started to push on to the end of the corridor.

  
The containers ended and the corridor opened out into a new section of the warehouse, chain-link running back and forth down the length of the room forming a knee-height grid of fences glinting green under the light of the lantern ring. The glow travelled across the fences revealing empty patches of dust and filth-spattered stone floors, one after the other until eventually a dark lump came into view. John’s light moved over it, bringing it all into sight.

  
A boot, a leg, a human being slumped face-down in one of the grids.

  
They didn’t even get a chance to register what they were seeing before everything started happening.

  
Overhead, ancient hanging strip-lights started to burst into life, the tapping sound of their connections warming up bouncing across the room. Several more bodies became visible, all face-down in their grids, six in total. A crackling erupted from the far side, the blinking lights picking out the edges of an old and worn-looking laud-hailer fixed into the bricks. A low sigh drawing out into the air, distorted by the rotted machinery.

  
“How dare you two attempt to interfere with my designs.” Crane’s voice was smooth and cruel, a facade of calm over an undercurrent of spite and anger. “Do you have any idea how long I spent trying to get Batman’s attention? To bring him here without tipping him off?”

  
“Sorry to disappoint you, Scarecrow,” John said, bracing his wrist, “but you’ll have to make do with us tonight. If that upsets you, maybe you can just let the people here go.”

  
A laugh echoed across the building, loosening dust in the rafters. Layer after layer of distortion turned it into a gruesome cackle that sounded more like over-ripe fruit splitting than it did any true sentiment of humour. Shayera scowled as she turned to her partner.

  
“Evil laugh. Every time.” She muttered, rolling her eyes.

  
“Let them go?” Scarecrow took a patronising tone to his voice. “Just what sort of situation did you think you were going to walk in on here, Lantern? If I was keeping hostages, you can be sure that I would have leaked that to my real nemesis. What you see before you are not prisoners. They are failed experiments. Take a look for yourselves.”

  
Shayera and John looked to one another again. Stepping out into the room beyond would leave them open. Here in the corridor they were vulnerable, but at least they could cover every possible attack route.

  
“If you think you’re going to get the drop on us, you’re going to have a very painful revelation.” Shayera announced, stepping forwards and readying her mace.

  
“And if you think you are going to strike fear into me with threats of violence, then you are even more of a crude beast than I had imagined. Such a pity.”

  
Shayera’s brow creased as she stepped forwards, lifting her feet up over the fences as she made her way to the nearest crumpled body. Despite herself, she could feel her heart thundering away in her chest as she got closer, expecting to leap away the moment something leapt out at her. Any moment she knew the floor was going to drop away or some unseen device was going to belch a cloud of gas into her face. When it came, she would be ready and more than willing to exact vengeance on the culprit.

  
“I do wish I could feel angry that you are here. I would love nothing more than to savour the fury of being humiliated like this.” Scarecrow sounded distracted, faint. “I called out for the scalpel that is Batman, and instead he sends the bludgeon that is you two.”

  
“Give me thirty seconds and I can show you just how effective a bludgeon can be.” Shayera announced, lifting her gaze away from the body for a moment.

  
“You cannot frighten me, Hawkgirl. Nor you, Lantern. That life-sustaining terror has been taken from me, leading me to this place and my latest experiments.”

  
Shayera reached the body, slowly lowering herself down and placing a hand on the shoulder. It looked to be a young man, healthy and wrapped in thick, dark clothing. She turned him over, slowly, keeping an eye out for any hidden booby-traps that could spring from the movement. The body flopped over onto its back, revealing a face stretched into an agonised scream with black and crimson blotches scattered all over the skin. The eyes were open wide, but rolled back into the skull with dark veins crossing over the dead tissue. A thin line of dried, tacky blood stuck to his upper lip, staining the exposed teeth.

  
“Unfortunately,” Scarecrow continued, “the initial stages of the experiment were a failure as I fought to find the correct dosage. Ah well. One cannot make an omelette, et cetera.”

  
Shayera turned back to her partner, frowning as she saw the side of one of the shipping containers hanging open. A shape began to form out of the shadows, long limbs unfurling like some immense, lithe spider. An arm ending in a thin barb poised above the Lantern’s back.

  
“I’m sure I’ve got it ironed out now.”

  
The arm came down, burying a long syringe into John’s neck, plunging down a viscous black formula into his bloodstream. His eyes widened, the green light within flickering for a moment before going out completely. John’s mouth opened and a long, tortured gasp started to escape from his lungs before his jaw began to shiver, teeth chattering into one another as he fell to his knees.

  
Shayera went into action without pause, combat training kicking in. She took off from standing, firing herself like a living missile at the shadow, swinging her mace with a battle-cry that reverberated off the walls and through her own skull. John fell to the ground, revealing the figure behind him. Tall and strangely angled, clad in black from the top of his wide-brimmed hat, through a filthy-looking jacket to ancient leather boots. A mask of worn leather was held in place by a rough noose around the neck, the cut-out features revealing only a hint of crooked teeth here, or the glint of a single eye there.

  
She struck out with her mace the moment John’s head was clear of her swing. It impacted with Scarecrow’s chest and she felt the satisfaction of several ribs splintering under her attack, the air driven out of her opponent as he was flung against the far wall. There was a wet thud as he impacted with the bricks before dropping into a heap on the floor.

  
“GL!” Shayera yelled, turning back to her partner, watching him cough and hack as he fought to rise to his feet. She rushed to his side, gripping him by the shoulders and hoisting him upright, her heart dropping as she saw the dark line of blood trickling from his left nostril, his eyes flitting from side to side as he whispered incoherent noises. “GL, snap out of it! I’m here, I’ve got you!”

  
John looked as though he were following the movements of a hundred separate spectres dancing in front of his eyes, each more distressing than the last. Babbling words dripped from his lips, and Shayera could only make out the occasional utterance of “Fire”, “Home” and “Stars”.

  
She rallied back on her target, stalking forward, ready to obliterate the broken villain. With ragged breaths, she could hear him chuckling, trying to prop himself up on slender arms.  
“What did you do to him?” She roared, gripping Crane by his collar and lifting him up, her knuckles pressing into his throat. That ugly, quiet laughter continued, and Shayera shoved forwards, bouncing his head against the wall, greasy black hair falling about his mangled mask.

  
“My latest experiment,” Scarecrow rasped. “my fear toxins with a little added kick from Chain Viper venom. Right now, the adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream is keeping the venom at bay, keeping him alive. Once that supply of adrenaline stops, once your friend starts to fight the fear, the venom will begin to coagulate his blood supply. The longer he stays scared, the longer he has before everything in his veins turns solid. Right now, fear will keep him alive. Unfortunately, it will also be what kills you.”

  
There was a cracking sound as a capsule hidden within the folds of his clothing burst, a cloud of yellow vapours erupting into Shayera’s face and filling her nostrils. Her eyes watered as the stinging gas drifted through her mask, making her head swim and her vision blur. She dropped her target, letting him slump back down into the dust, stumbling back a few steps as she fought to clear her head.  
On top of the stinging eyes, she could feel a dry heat in her throat and a pain all through her sinuses like the beginnings of a severe flu. The thudding of her heart muffled all the other sounds she could pick up and she was only vaguely aware of Scarecrow talking as he got uneasily to his feet.

  
“Right now, you should be seeing the most horrific images your mind can possibly conjure up. As you die screaming and clawing at your own eyes to kill the visions, your friend will start to feel his heart fill with thickened death.”

  
The headache began to subside almost instantly, a deep breath soothing her throat and filling her with strength. Truth be told, she wasn’t sure she had ever felt stronger as she fixed her sight on her target.

  
“What hell do you stand in, Hawkgirl? What nightmare has your barbaric brain built for you? What do you see?”

  
Her eyes narrowed as she readied up her mace for a mighty swing.

  
“All I see is a target.” She told him, leaping forwards and driving her mace in a huge roundhouse slam against his midsection, carrying him clean through the brick wall and depositing him in a wretched heap some fifty feet away, a shower of masonry raining down about him. He struggled for a moment, trying to drag himself upwards but collapsed into an unconscious lump after a few seconds. It took every fibre of willpower that she had to stop Shayera from taking flight just so that she could dive-bomb onto the monster and crush him, to swing her mace until there was nothing left. She took a deep breath and rushed back to John’s side, finding him with tears in his eyes as he stared out at unknown phantasms.

  
Shayera felt a stab of horror as she saw his hand go to his chest, clutching at his heart before he doubled over, vomiting a stream of red and black lumps onto the ground.

  
“No, GL!” Shayera gripped him tightly, “John!”

  
From somewhere along the rafters of the warehouse, a single crow started to call.


	2. Diffusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the mission.

_The Watchtower_   
_2nd November_   
_09:42_

 

Shayera opened her eyes slowly, letting the humming lights of the infirmary come through in manageable waves. The bed beneath her was comfortable enough, but her muscles ached and her throat felt like a desert. She looked to her left, seeing a glass of water already set out for her, sitting up and taking it up in an instant, savouring the hydration as she swallowed it down.

  
“Careful you don’t drown.”

  
Out of the corner of her eye, Shayera saw slight movement in red, smiling as she turned her head to her team-mate. Flash was grinning, waving sheepishly from a seat at the far side of the room.

  
“Have you been sitting there all night?” She asked.

  
The door to the infirmary room slid open, Wonder Woman entering with a tray of various pills and a small selection of fruit.

  
“Hardly, Flash has been flitting between your room and Green Lantern’s all night. Can you imagine him sitting still anywhere for more than a minute?”

  
Shayera sat up, her hands gripping the sheets tightly.

  
“GL. Where is he?”

  
“He’s fine,” Flash said, getting up and taking an apple from off the tray, devouring it in less than half a second. “Bats and J’onn are with him in the next room. It was a little scary for a while there, but he’s going to be ok. You got him back here in time. J’onn says GL’ll be back on his feet and complaining about stuff before the end of the week.”

  
“I believe my exact words were that Green Lantern would be able to resume his duties before the end of the week.”

  
Flash laughed nervously as the Martian’s monotone reverberated through the Leaguer’s earpieces.

  
“I want to see him,” Shayera began to pull herself out of the bed, finding herself being helped out by a pair of powerful Amazonian arms, Wonder Woman having passed the tray over to Flash.

  
“I would really rather you recuperate for now-“ J’onn started before he was cut off.

  
“Did you see what I did to Scarecrow when you hauled him in?” Shayera asked.

  
“I did.”

  
“Then you know that I’m fighting fit. Even happy to spar a few rounds if you want me to prove it.”

 

There was a long pause on the other end of the communication line.

  
“A short visit. Even if you are well, Green Lantern still needs plenty of rest.”

  
It was all Shayera needed. She wrapped the robe Wonder Woman offered around herself, grateful for the warmth that the regular infirmary garb had left her without. The three assembled heroes took off, heading into the adjoining room where Batman and the Martian Manhunter waited, a bed between them with a rather frail looking Green Lantern. John did his best to smile as they entered, his eyelids drooping heavily, a yawning chasm in his stare.

  
“GL, are you ok?” Shayera almost barged past J’onn on her way to the bedside. The response from the bed was just a long, low sigh. With great care, John gave a slight nod and let his head fall back against the pillow. From the dark patches of sweat stains around his head, it had not been an easy night for him.

  
“The toxins are out of his system now,” Batman said, seeming to do his best not to look directly at any of the assembled heroes. “His body is still struggling to deal with the aftereffects of the elevated stress levels. Lantern’s been through a hell of a lot.”

  
“They both have,” Wonder Woman added, arms folded. “Hawkgirl, your quick thinking brought Scarecrow in and saved Lantern’s life, I’m sure he’ll be feeling well enough to thank you before long.”

  
“More importantly, how are you feeling, Hawkgirl?”

  
Shayera raised her eyebrow. While not as cold as he perhaps liked to let on, it was a little odd to hear that question coming from Gotham’s dark knight.

  
“Why?” She asked, already regretting it.

  
“Once Green Lantern was stable, I ran a few tests on a blood sample taken from you. Scarecrow did manage to gas you, after all.”

  
“Yes, to no effect. Wait a minute, you took a blood sample from me? When?”

  
“While you were sleeping.”

  
“Not even Bats is brave enough to come at you with a needle while you’re awake.” Flash chuckled. The slightest tilt of a dark cowl and Batman’s white lenses were narrowed into daggers pointed in the speedster’s direction. For his part, Flash started to back out of the infirmary, “so, uh, that’s everything you’re going to need from me. Glad to see GL’s ok, Hawkgirl’s up on her feet. I’m gonna go see if Superman’s back from his mission yet.” He disappeared in a red streak the moment he was out of the door.

  
The room was silent for a moment before Shayera continued.

  
“I guess you were right about the fear toxin having no effect on alien biology.”

  
“I’m not so sure about that.” Batman picked up a clipboard from a nearby trolley. “The toxins are still present in your blood, they haven’t thinned out or been fought off at all. In fact, while they’re having less of a drastic effect on your perceptions, there are elevated levels of adrenaline and lowered amounts of whatever passes for Thanagarian dopamine present.”

  
“Bats already has the on-edge cranky team member thing handled.” Came a yell from down the corridor as Flash passed by in a blur.

  
“Meaning what exactly?” Shayera rubbed her temple. She wasn’t sure if the slight headache was real, or just forced into her imagination by what Batman had been saying.

  
“Possibly nothing.” Wonder Woman said, “if you haven’t felt any ill effects yet then the worst part may be over. Although…”

  
“Although there is the possibility that you may be suffering a less severe but more drawn-out effect of the toxins.” J’onn almost had a look of concern on his otherwise inscrutable features. “You may have a sense of unease settle over you. Possibilities for paranoia and anxiety. If they come then they will most likely quickly pass, but I cannot guarantee how long that will last.”

  
“And how long before you’re able to work out a cure or until this fear toxin gets out of my system?”

  
The silence that fell upon the room was palpable.

  
“As Wonder Woman said, the worst part could very well be over.” J’onn answered quietly.

  
On the bed, Green Lantern shifted gently in his sleep, eyes flitting back and forth beneath their lids.


	3. Coagulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new mission rolls in, it's probably only minor... So why is Shayera convinced it hides something far more sinister within?

 

_The Watchtower – Briefing Room_   
_4th November_   
_10:00_

 

“It’s called a Haywire Cloud,” Superman announced, standing in front of the briefing screen. The static image on the display showed a vast patch of purple shades in the depths of space, faint lights present at odd points in the cloud. “It’s a strange aftereffect of an interstellar war fought thousands of years ago. Even though both sides of the conflict have long since passed into history, this weapon is still roaming about space, still traveling forever in the direction that it was sent.”

  
“And we can assume that this direction brings it towards Earth?” Wonder Woman asked.

 

“Within a few days it will pass over us, yes.”

  
“So,” Flash ventured, “Superman and J’onn fly out into space and smash it before it floats over here and… Haywires us, right?”

  
“Putting aside the logistics of ‘smashing’ a cloud, Flash,” the Martian Manhunter stood from his seat. “A Haywire Cloud still traveling today will have lost an awful amount of its potential energy. By now its effects will be limited to a few electrical storms, perhaps a small surge in tidal activity.”

  
“Which is why, rather than attempting to destroy it and risk turning it into something far more dangerous,” Superman surmised, “The League will be spending our time fixing any damage that may arise from this phenomenon.”

  
“We will also need to dedicate resources to calming the populace,” Batman added, “as harmless as we might think this is, it’s still going to scare people. People don’t make good decisions when they’re scared.”

  
The conversation moved on, but Shayera didn’t hear it. To her it had become a stream of low, mumbling voices all flowing into one another. After a while, she didn’t even see her team-mates assembled around the briefing chart. Her vision was fixed entirely on that cloud of purple pixels at the centre of the screen. The way the lights inside it blinked in and out of existence, signalling, calling to her, trying to get across a message. A warning? A greeting?

  
The longer she stared, the more she swore that she could see more colours and shades shifting within the cloud. Blacks and browns and greys, boiling beneath the purple haze. Whatever it was inside the cloud, it was hiding and waiting for now. When it finally came time to reveal itself though… Unfurling its many wings...

  
“I go out of action for a few days and the whole world gets threatened by coloured dust.”

  
Shayera almost felt a twinge in her neck from turning so fast in her seat, locking eyes with John as he entered the briefing room. There was a slight hint of a smile at the corner of his lips, but he still looked exhausted, resting on the door frame before making his way in further.

  
“Shouldn’t you be resting up?” She asked, smiling right back.

  
“And miss space dust? Not at any price.”

  
~

  
The two sat opposite one another at a plain steel table, two cups of coffee sat between them untouched, steam rising into the air. Shayera glanced from her cup to the window, vision skimming over the vista of space beyond before settling onto the reflection of John’s own gaze.

  
“You want to ask what it was like, don’t you?”

  
Shayera sighed at the question, lowering her gaze from the porthole.

  
“No.” In truth, it had been on her mind, in a form of very morbid curiosity. She had never seen him look that way, either in the warehouse or while he slept. John had always been a rock. Steadfast, tough and, at times, stubborn. To see him flinch at phantoms, eyes frantically searching for a way out of his situation. Hunted, confused, afraid. She wanted to know just what he had seen that had made him react like that.

  
To jump right in and question him though? She couldn’t. Not only was she herself concerned as to what those visions could have been, she had enough respect for her friend not to pry into the matter. His fears were his own business, and in this case, there could be no business more personal.

  
John looked over his shoulders, checking and finding that they were alone. He leaned in conspiratorially and motioned for Shayera to get closer. She obliged him and he glanced out of the corner of his eyes once again.

  
“Batman singing power ballads.”

  
Shayera could feel her brow creasing in confusion, mouthing the words back silently. In the end, she settled for silently staring dumbfounded at him.

  
“What I saw,” John explained, “In the- You know.”

  
Shayera tilted her head to the side ever so slightly, as though trying to correct a world gone mad.

  
“Did… Did you just make a joke?” She asked, in an accusatory tone that would be better suited for interrogating a supervillain. John chuckled and leaned back in his chair, bringing his coffee with him and taking a long, loud sip.

  
“I’m very tired.” He concluded. Shayera simply nodded, still a little too confused to formulate a response. “But what about you? How are you feeling?”

  
“I’m feeling fine,” she said, “I’ve been told that I can expect some side effects but I honestly feel great. I didn’t get hit with any sort of effect and you got all the brunt of the attack. I’m just sorry that I didn’t smash him before he had a chance to strike. I should have had your back and I-“

  
John lunged across the table at her.

  
No.

  
Not lunged.

  
He extended his arm, placing his hand down gently on her wrist. Looking down at it, Shayera could see her grip on the coffee cup in front of her tightening, threatening to crush it in her fist. Her knuckles whitened and her whole arm was trembling. She could feel her heart thundering against her ribs and a horrible knot in her stomach.

  
“Hey,” he said, voice still a little hoarse and quiet. “if it weren’t for you, I would have died in there. Don’t ever forget that. I should have had a better eye on our surroundings, so that’s on me anyway. Are you sure you’re ok? You’re not normally one for kicking yourself when things go wrong.”

  
He was right, Shayera had to admit it. She also had to admit that she instead usually found a criminal to kick in those times instead.

  
“I’m fine,” she reiterated, lifting the coffee cup and breaking contact with his hand.

  
“Well, if you do need to talk, you know where to find me.” John got to his feet and motioned to the infirmary. “Plus, I requested that we be deployed together when the Haywire Cloud hits. I need someone watching my back while I’m still recuperating.” He smiled and disappeared into the infirmary, leaving Shayera alone with her coffee.

  
She stared out of the porthole into the depths of space, fancying that she could see a faint shimmer in the far distance that was the approaching cloud. It thrashed and surged as it moved onward, its mass made up of a million fluttering wings. A million pairs of hateful eyes. A million destructive intentions.

  
Just above her head, a fan kicked into life within the vents, picking up speed. For just a moment, Shayera heard the sound a frail and broken bird, screeching within the metallic tunnels before the fans got up to full rotation and she realised it had just been the machinery groaning.

  
She glanced up at the vents for a moment before setting off, leaving her half-finished coffee where it was.


End file.
